


Enthralling

by TaergaLive



Series: Baldur's Gate 3 one-shots [6]
Category: Baldur's Gate
Genre: F/M, No Smut, mentions sex, sorry lol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-23
Updated: 2020-12-23
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:00:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28254279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TaergaLive/pseuds/TaergaLive
Summary: “'Okay.' It comes out as a breath.Astarion leans closer. 'What was that?'She swallows. 'I...I...I’ll, I’ll f-f-find you later.'He chuckles lowly before whispering in her ear. 'Indeed you will, my love. Indeed you will.'”It's the party. So of course that means fun times.
Relationships: Astarion (Baldur's Gate)/Original Female Character(s)
Series: Baldur's Gate 3 one-shots [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2061618
Comments: 7
Kudos: 36





	Enthralling

**Author's Note:**

> Flufflufflufflufflufflufffluflfuflfu
> 
> I've been waiting for this one. And I have to admit this is actually the most "graphic" I've gotten as far as fluff goes. I know. Pathetic lol

The more comfortable her brother gets with the crowd, the more Sephrin slinks back. It seems so easy for him, smiling, laughing, conversing with others. He always seems to know what to say to make others enjoy his company. How did he do it? 

After everything that occurred that day, being invited to a party just made the events feel even more like a dream. None of it could have been real. The goblins, the fighting, the...well, she didn’t want to think about the other part. But the druids and the refugees insisted on celebrating the victory over the goblins. And so here she was, clinging to her brother’s side as if this were a party back home.

Clutching her drink, she escapes the crowd, watching for another moment before retreating to find someplace to hide. The problem with a party like this is that she cannot just leave. She can only wait for the festivities to die down. Perhaps she’ll find a blanket and hide in a dark corner until the sun rises.

Skirting around the crowd, she heads for the outskirts. She had been watching her feet rather than what lay ahead of her, so when she glances up, she’s surprised by what she sees. Off to the side all alone is Astarion, sitting on a crate, nursing a bottle. While he occasionally watches the crowd, he mostly seems withdrawn. She assumed he would enjoy such a crowd, mingling with everyone, bragging, showing off. Squaring her shoulders, she takes a long swig of her drink and strides over. 

As she gets closer, Astarion looks her way. It makes her steps falter, but she carries on as if nothing was wrong. He holds up his bottle to her in greeting. 

“I’m not surprised you’d come this way,” he hums. “In fact, I’m shocked you didn’t run away from the crowd sooner.” 

She fiddles with her cup and shrugs. “Glynren always encourages me to...mingle.” 

He takes a sip of his wine. “And how did that go for you?”

She gestures vaguely around her. “Well, I ended up here, yes?” 

A toothy grin answers her. Astarion regards her for a moment before gesturing to the crate beside him. Daintily, she sits down, tucking her skirt as she does so. The two of them sit in silence for a time, sipping their drinks. The slight buzz she feels is strangely soothing. She’s not drunk, still well aware of her surroundings, though the temptation to drink herself into a stupor is strong. That’s normally how an evening such as this would go. For now, however, she could manage. Her mind was quieter. It makes being near Astarion less nerve-wracking. 

“You know,” he starts, not looking at her at first. “I never pictured myself as a hero. Never thought  _ I’d _ be the one they toast for saving so many lives. And now that I’m here…” She watches as he takes a swig. His face turns sour. “...I hate it. This is awful.”

Awful? How could such a good thing be awful? Saving those tieflings was the first thing in a long time that made her feel somewhat proud. She purses her lips, looking down at her lap. “We, we did something good. We saved all these people.”

“We killed some goblins to save some tieflings,” he states, shrugging. “The tally of lives didn’t change much.” 

She furrows her brow. “B-but, those goblins, they were-”

“ _ Bad _ ?” he mocks. “My dear girl, do you really think life is so black and white?” He brings the bottle to his mouth, watching her intently. “I’m sure the goblins didn’t see themselves as the bad guys.”

The cup shakes in her hand before she brings it to her lips. “I’m, I’m not  _ that _ naive. ‘History is written by the winners,’ and all that. But, but to see someone in trouble and not help them when you can, well, to me, that is truly evil.” 

He scoffs. “You know what’s truly evil? I do all this hard work and all I get is a pat on the head and vinegar for wine.” 

Her mouth tightens. She shouldn’t have said anything at all. She should have just let him talk. 

“Is that why you let me drink from you?” he asks suddenly. His voice is low, and he leans closer. Sephrin tenses. “I was some  _ poor soul _ in trouble, and you  _ pitied me _ ?” 

She’s not sure what he wants to hear. Initially, she doesn’t want to answer. But in the end, she whispers, “I wanted to be useful.” 

The tension lingers as he stares at her like he’s trying to read her mind. But she doesn’t feel the tickling caress against her brain, so she knows he isn’t. Finally, he leans back and takes another drink. She’s thinking about getting up, about finding that blanket and maybe submerging herself in the river when he finally laughs. It doesn’t quite reach his eyes, but it doesn’t sound forced either. 

“Loosen up, darling,” he playfully chides. “You’re at a party. Albeit a rather dull and annoying party, but a party nonetheless.” 

She wants to ask if he was upset with her for what she said, but the glint in his eyes told her he wanted to move on. If she brought the subject up again, she didn’t know what he would do. The best thing for her to do is to move on as well. 

“I’m not really one for parties,” she manages to say with a faint smile. 

“What?” he feigns surprise, bringing a hand to his mouth. “And here I thought you were having the time of your life.” 

The playfulness in his voice helps put her at ease, making her almost forget what just passed. In fact, her little smile grows just a tad, and she makes a show of rolling her eyes. “I’m positively miserable.” 

He laughs again and holds out her bottle to her. It takes her a second to react, but she clinks her cup against it. “And misery loves company. To misery!”

They both drink, a strange giddiness wiggling inside Sephrin’s stomach. Was that flirting? Did she just flirt? Did it work? Gods, she felt like a fool, and yet it didn’t feel terrible.

An eruption of laughter catches their attention. Glancing behind her, Sephrin sees her brother immersed in a story he’s telling, his animation getting those nearby riled up. He used to tell her bedtime stories like that. It always made falling asleep much harder. 

Astarion’s attention falls back to her as he takes another sip. “So tell me, how angry would your brother be if he saw you here, drinking with me?”

Still watching her brother, she frowns. “Honestly, I do not care. I am not a child, and I may choose the company I wish to keep.”

“Well said!” he muses with a smirk. “But would you ever say that to him?”

Astarion already knows the answer, so she doesn’t bother to say it. Instead, she turns back around, studying the contents of her cup. “At any rate, I, I enjoy your company.” 

He flashes his teeth. “Because of my devilishly good looks?”

Although she blushes, that little smile manages to worm itself back on her face. “It’s more because...well, have you ever heard the story of the man who bought a new horse?”

He makes a face. “I can’t say I have, no.” 

Sephrin straightens up and angles herself to face him better. “A man buys a new horse one day and brings it to his farm. Once there, the new horse immediately pals around with his laziest horse who does nothing but eat all day. Without a second thought, he brings the horse back to the market and demands a refund.”

A groan. “Sephrin, this is the worst story I’ve ever heard.”

She giggles. “It’s more of an allegory really. Now, why do you think he brought the horse back?” He gives her a dull look that, for some reason, makes her smile more. “It’s because he knows the horse is going to end up like his laziest horse. The point of the story is that we tend to, to be like the people we associate with. We pick up their traits, their mannerisms.”

He cocks a brow at her. “You wish to be like me?” he asks with a swagger of his head.

Again, she blushes. “A bit, I suppose.” 

Astarion leans closer to her. He’s amused by this development. “And which of my traits could you possibly hope to pick up?”

Her eyes fall back to her lap. “Your confidence.” 

Confidence? She says it with such sincerity that it takes him by surprise. He sits back, studying the crowd as he drinks. Once again, Sephrin is left wondering if she said something wrong. Stupid, stupid girl! This is why she ought to keep her mouth shut. 

On the other side of the camp, some singing breaks out. Astarion groans and rolls his eyes. “This night just keeps getting worse.” He looks to Sephrin and gestures wildly with his arms. “All I want is a little fun. Is that so much to ask?”

At least he is still talking to her, though she notices he’s changed the subject yet again. She glances up at him. “Well, what do you find fun?”

The poor girl never stood a chance. “By the hells,” he chuckles before smirking at her. “ _ Sex _ , my dear. A night of passion.”

Sephrin almost drops her cup. “...oh.”

The smirk never leaves his face as he regards her. “Well? Is that a no?”

Her instinct is to play dumb. “N-No to what?”

“To creating our own  _ entertainment _ . Getting a little closer, so to speak.” 

That takes a moment to process. Her? He wanted...with her? Even her thoughts were having trouble speaking. She feels a hot flash spread throughout her body. Her cup. She stares intently at her cup as if it’s the most interesting cup in the world. “Y-you...m-m-me?”

It takes all her strength not to flinch when he scoots closer to her, his knee pressing against hers. “Let’s wait until things quiet down. Once the others are asleep, we’ll find each other.” 

Everyone could hear her heart beating, she just knew it. This wasn’t the first time she’s had someone proposition her. But it’s never felt like this. Normally, by the time a man approached her, by the time she even had the confidence to have a conversation, she was incredibly sloshed. Now, she was still working on her first drink and painfully aware of her surroundings. Part of her wanted to down her drink, to steal Astarion’s wine and down that as well. And she knew why. She knew why she wanted to suddenly get drunk. 

“Okay.” It comes out as a breath. 

Astarion leans closer. “What was that?” 

She swallows. “I...I...I’ll, I’ll f-f-find you later.” 

He chuckles lowly before whispering in her ear. “Indeed you will, my love. Indeed you will.” He lingers but a moment longer before getting up and sauntering off. 

There’s a tightness in her chest that makes it hard to breathe. The world is spinning and she can hardly hold on. She might just vomit. Instead, she downs the rest of her drink, closes her eyes, and focuses on breathing. Why did she do that? Why did she agree? A drink. She needs another drink. Or five. It’s the only way. It’s the only way she’ll be able to go through with it, she knows. Her brain needs to go to sleep; otherwise, it will ruin everything. She knows that. It will scold her, shout awful things at her, and remind her what a stupid girl she is. 

And yet, if she were to turn her mind off, if she were to drink herself drunk, she would hardly recall a thing. The night would pass by; she’d wake up in a strange place, most likely alone. Normally, that wasn’t terrible. The idea of spending the night with someone always felt like a chore. She always forced herself to do it, though, because that’s what she was supposed to do, right? If she were to be loved, she would have to suffer through it. 

This time, though, this time feels different. Just the very idea of Astarion suggesting the two of them spending the night together set her on fire. She’s never felt like this before, and she’s not quite sure what it is. 

Sephrin is unable to stay still for the rest of the evening. It takes great effort, but she foregoes drinking anything else. She still holds her empty cup, though, mostly as a security blanket of sorts. Sticking to the sides, she slowly meanders about the camp. Every so often, she looks around the party, at all the people. And every time, she eventually spots Astarion. He’s always opposite of wherever she is, and he is always watching her with that suggestive smile. The first few times it happens, she instantly looks away, her heart racing. But as the night goes on, she makes a game out of it, seeing how long she can go without looking for him or trying to catch him looking away. When their eyes meet, she purses her lips, trying to keep from smiling. She must look demented to those around her, smiling like a loon at seemingly nothing. 

Eventually, the party begins to dwindle. People are getting tired or too drunk to stay awake. A few linger about, having languid conversations. Sephrin’s eyes scan the camp, but Astarion nowhere around. Her heart skips a beat. Does that mean…?

“Your brother is by the fire.” The woman’s voice makes Sephrin jump. She turns around to see Shadowheart studying her. 

“O-oh,” was all Sephrin could manage. 

They both stood there in silence. Shadowheart cocks a brow at her. “That’s who you were looking for right now, wasn’t it?” There’s something odd about the way she asks it, almost accusatory. 

Sephrin shifts on her feet, looking away. “I, uh, y-yes. Yes, th-thank you.” Biting her lip, she starts to walk off. 

“The fire is the other way,” Shadowheart comments, hiding a smile behind her cup. 

Sephrin stops for a moment, trying to think of something to say. But there is quite literally only one thing on her mind right now and she can’t think of any excuses for why she has to suddenly disappear into the woods. So she just scurries off, not looking back.

Shadowheart shakes her head. “I suppose I can make an excuse for you,” she mutters to herself. 

The deeper into the woods she goes, the faster her heart races. She has no idea where’s she’s supposed to meet Astarion, no idea what he has planned. This could be a rap for all she knows, and yet she doesn’t care. When she reaches the river, she realizes she’s probably gone too far, so she heads off in a different direction. It’s getting dark. She can’t see the fire from camp anymore. 

A twig snaps. She freezes in place, waiting to see what happens. When she’s met with only silence, she moves toward the sound. A few moments later, a short whistle sounds to her left. Again, she pauses. Two short whistles then come from the same direction. Tilting her head, she takes a few furtive steps in the direction. She then hears leaves rustling, the sound getting further away. 

Was that...him? He would have no trouble traipsing in the dark, his vision much better than hers and with much more practice. Could he see her? Was he guiding her toward him? The thought makes her giddy. On she goes, following different sounds deeper into the woods much like a fish chasing a hook. It’s a wonder she hasn’t been captured by some ne’er-do-well with how foolish she was being. 

The trees give way to a small glade, moonlight trickling through the leaves. Guarded, she steps into the glade, searching, listening. He steps out from behind a tree with the same suggestive expression he had been giving her at the party. Sephrin wishes for a drink now, or her book, or just about anything that she could hide behind. But there’s nothing. She’s out in the open.

“There you are,” he hums, approaching her. “I’ve been waiting. Waiting since the moment I set eyes on you.” He stops a few feet away. “Waiting to have you.”

Although the excitement from before still lingers, though she thinks about his lips on hers, though it thrills her, her earlier anxieties come rushing back. She hugs herself, glancing off to the side. 

“Th-That’s not the first time I’ve heard that.” It escapes before she can stop it. 

“I have no doubt,” Astarion chuckles, taking another step closer to her. A hand cups her cheek, guiding her gaze back to him. “And no doubt it won’t be the last either. What I said back in the temple is true. You may hide yourself under unassuming dress and habits, but underneath, you’re captivating.”

Underneath are breasts and other things he’s after. She’s no fool. She starts to wonder how much of this is sincere if any. But the hand on her face makes her want to believe like the naive child she claims not to be. Her eyes drift away, toward the bedroll laid out under one of the fuller trees. It’s not the most romantic set up, but he at least tried with what they had. 

She swallows. “What...what happens next? After this?” 

His thumb rubs against her cheek. He never takes her eyes off of her, though she doesn’t know that since she’s not looking. He knows what she wants to hear, but he’s not going to promise something he might not want to keep. 

“Let’s see what morning brings,” he suggests. “Then decide.” 

While it isn’t the answer she was hoping for, it’s not the answer she was expecting. She swore he would tell her that this was just a one-time deal. That’s what it normally was. As they stand there, nothing happens. Her heart is racing, his hand still caressing her face, but nothing else. She realizes he’s waiting for her. Taking a breath, she looks up at him. She opens her mouth to speak, but nothing comes out, not even a squeak. Her voice not working, she gives a little nod. 

That’s his cue. He closes the gap between them, pressing his lips to hers. It starts off gentle, but it quickly escalates, and it’s actually Sephrin who intensifies it. She kisses him with quiet desperation, as if she needs it to survive. Astarion gladly complies, bringing her closer to him. Just like at the temple, she clutches at his shirt front. 

She’s lost in him completely until the very moment she feels her back hit the bedroll. The hands that were at his chest cover her face, cutting off their kiss. Astarion shifts so he is lying beside her, propped on his elbow. 

“You did this earlier as well,” he comments, kissing one of her hands. “Changed your mind?”

Again, she can’t find her voice. She shakes her head.

He cocks a brow but brings a hand to her hip. “Are you...afraid of me?”

Another head shake. 

“Do you want this?”

Nod.

He waits a moment for her to bring down her hands. And she knows he’s waiting. But she can’t bring herself to do it. She knew she should have gotten drunk. But it’s too late for that. Her mind is racing, calling her a thousand different foul names. 

His lips return to her hands. He’s eventually able to nudge her hands aside and reach her mouth. Once that happens, Sephrin relaxes, leaning into him. The minor setback rectified, the two continue as if nothing occurred. 

It’s not the most passionate night of his life, that’s for sure. It’s not the worst night either. She’s quieter than he had hoped. Part of him imagined he’d be able to loosen her up enough to let go completely, but perhaps that was just pride blinding him. Her breathy pants and whimpers would have to suffice. 

Astarion woke with the sun. It was strange. Centuries of darkness and now he could start the day the way normal people did. Though it hurts his eyes, he couldn’t help but gaze up at the sun. He brings his free arm up to shade his face. His other arm has to stay put. It’s not only preoccupied but also asleep. 

They didn’t speak much after the deed was done. Once done, Sephrin curled up against him, hiding her face in his chest. So he let her hide. And eventually fall asleep, resting her head against the front of his shoulder. Having company for the night wasn’t awful, so he didn’t complain. It took him much longer to fall asleep. Meditating was a little harder when he had a woman pressed against him, but he eventually managed it and was able to nod off. 

He debates waking her but opts for snaking his arm out from under her. After some flexing, he’s able to feel it again. He slips out from under the blanket and dons his trousers before finding a spot of the glade with more sunlight, soaking it in like a lizard basking on a rock. Maybe he can meditate now to make up for last night. 

When Sephrin’s eyes flutter open, Astarion is deep in his rumination. Initially, she thinks she’s been abandoned, and it makes her stomach drop. But then she sits up. She holds the blanket close to her, watching him. Now that she’s awake, her mind slams her with insults. The only thing that pulls her out of her thoughts is Astarion sighing and getting up. He turns to the bedroll, a bit surprised she was awake. He smiles.    


“Didn’t think you’d be up so early. You’re usually the last one up.”

Sephrin shifts, holding the blanket tighter to her chest. Shrugging, she glances away. “I...usually, yes, but that’s because I, I have trouble sleeping.” 

As he saunters back to the bedroll, he notices her glancing toward his stomach and hips. Though he was covered, he hadn’t bothered lacing the trousers, giving a teasing glimpse of his abdomen. The blush that spouts on her face makes him smile. He crawls back onto the bedroll, lounging next to her. The way she holds the blanket gives him glimpses of her skin as well. Part of him realized he should have given her a chance to get herself dressed, but he selfishly was enjoying her embarrassment. 

“I suppose I wore you out last night,” he purrs. 

More blushing. “I, I suppose so.” She lays back down, facing him. Makes it easier to keep herself covered. It doesn’t stop Astarion’s eyes from trailing all over her body. When they get to her face, he leans forward to give her a kiss. The tenderness of it surprises her, which makes him chuckle. 

“How was it?” he asks. 

“Th-the kiss?”

He rolls his eyes. “Last night, darling, last night?” 

Oh. “I...I don’t know.” 

“Ouch,” he puts a hand to his chest, but he’s still smiling. 

Even more blushing. “I-I, oh, that’s not what...I didn’t mean it like...it was, I mean, I...enjoyed it.” Instantly she covers her face again, hiding under the blanket. 

Astarion laughs outright. “Coming from you, that’s a compliment. You weren’t awful yourself, dear.”

“I didn’t do anything,” comes the muffled response. 

“On the contrary,” he purrs, sliding closer to her. “You did plenty.” 

“...I did?” 

Swiftly, he ghosts his hand over her side. Even from under the blanket, it produces the desired shutter and even a squeak. Oh, he was having fun. Part of him wants to rip the blanket off her and take her again, but after all the fighting yesterday, he’s exhausted. 

Sighing, he gets up. “As much as I enjoy lazing about with you, we should return to camp before your brother loses his mind.”

Sephrin lowers the covers from her face. It takes her a moment to realize she’s watching him dress. “What’s that on…” she stops herself, realizing how insensitive she was being. She had felt the scars when her arms were around him, but she didn’t realize the design.

“Hm?” He looks over his shoulder. “Oh, it’s a poem.” He quickly covers it with his shirt. 

“A poem?” Sitting up again, she searches for her clothes. It takes some finagling, but she manages to gather all the pieces without dropping the blanket. Now to get them on…

“Yes. It was a  _ gift _ from Cazador. He considered himself quite the artist, and he used his slaves as his canvas.”

At least her shirt is on. It makes trying to wiggle into her small clothes a bit easier since she doesn’t have to worry about keeping her chest covered. Of course, Astarion doesn’t make things easier. As he buttons up his doublet, he keeps his eyes on her. 

“Oh,” she purses her lips, unsure of what to say. But it’s okay because Astarion continues. 

“He composed and carved that one over the course of one night. He made...a lot of revisions as he went.”

She’s surprised he’s still talking about it. Given what she noticed about him, he doesn’t like talking about his master. So she indulges him. “Wh-what does it say?” 

A shrug. “I don’t know. It’s not like I can look in a mirror and see.” 

“Why is it in Infernal?”

His brows shoot up. “What?”

Now it’s her time to shrug. “I can’t read it, but I can recognize it.” She realizes if she’s going to finish dressing, she’s going to need to stand up. Bracing herself, she stands up and pulls her tights on as quickly as she can. 

“Look, I don’t know,” he sounds annoyed. “I didn’t ask him to explain his  _ artistic vision _ .”

Sephrin knows better than to push it. Fully dressed, she fiddles with the hem of her skirt. “C-Can I...ask you a completely different question?”

Her nervousness clues him in. “What happens next?” Meekly, she nods, which makes him sigh and run a hand through his hair. “Am I to assume you would prefer for this to be a...usual thing? Perhaps exclusively?”

Clutching at her skirt, she looks down at her feet. She considers not answering, but she gives a little nod. It would be nice, for once, for something more than a one-night stand. 

Astarion rubs his eyes. “You’re killing me, darling.” But he doesn’t sound annoyed. He regards her for a few moments before sighing again. “However, you’ve caught me in a pleasant mood. So...why not?”

Her head snaps up. “R-Really?” 

He puts on a dramatic flair. “The last few days have been littered with surprises. I’ve a worm in my head, I can suddenly walk through sunlight...so much is different, I can’t see why I can’t allow this. Besides,” here he strides over to her, quickly wrapping an arm around her waist. “If I say no, I know you’d just follow me around like a lovesick puppy, begging me to take you.” 

The confirmation and even the teasing produces the biggest smile he’s ever seen on her. She bounces on the balls of her feet before pressing a kiss to his lips. While he eagerly returns it, he cuts it short.

“I can hear your brother calling for you,” he whispers. “You go on back to camp. Just head into the forest that way. You’ll eventually see which way it is. I’ll be along shortly.” 

Another quick kiss. And another. And then one more before he nudges her in the direction she needs to go. He swears she skips a little as she wanders off. 

Once she is out of earshot, the mirth leaves his face as he silently curses himself. Nothing good could come of this. He knew that. He should have said no. Shouldn’t have even had sex with her. Already, he could apprehension clawing up his back with icy fingers. 

He was going to need a drink. And a lot of meditation. 


End file.
